Don't forget
by Abandonedsrry
Summary: Zuko's in the temple brooding but he's not alone. Jet x Zuko. Smut.


**A/N: Just some smut I wrote on a stormy day. I was pissy, and therefore I took it out on Zuko…who just loves it in the end! Well enjoy amigos.**

**Warnings: **Kinkalert. Bloodplay. Smex. Lots of other weird things.

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Zuko closed his eyes. He shuddered as Jet began to stroke him thorough his pants. He felt the warmth of Jet's breath as he leaned in, face inches from his own and fingers fiddling with the front of his pants, teasing the throbbing organ beneath its fabric.

"You want it." Jet whispered. He ran a hand up over the pant line and across his belly, fingers slowly reaching up to his chest, neck, chin, and stopping to rest at the side of his scar. Zuko forced himself to look away, breath catching as Jet leant in and breathed hotly against his sweaty neck.

"You want it," Jet repeated, biting down on Zuko's chin.

Zuko stretched one bound arm experimentally and glared at Jet, lips tightening in to a scowl. "Stop been a jerk!" Zuko choked out. He twisted away from Jet and found himself stumbling towards the exit, his legs throbbing uncomfortably with each step he took. Laughter echoed out behind him, cold and harsh against the inner temple walls.

THUMP.

A cold hand wrapped around his upper arm and slammed him in to the nearest temple wall, locking him there. Almost instantly he began to struggle and kick, legs going out in all directions. "Get off me!" He ordered once more, fingers tightening against his bonds, scratching at them feebly.

Jet's hands moved from his arms and to his back, going lower each time Zuko attempted to escape the grip. They grabbed his hips and toyed with them; touching the skin in such a way that Zuko was forced to shudder. He hissed through his teeth and threw himself backward, right in to his offender's chest.

"Auung!" two arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him to the ground, a knee pressed against his back, locking him there. He could smell dirt and moss on the floor, and tried hard not to breathe in as his head was pushed down against the tiles.

"Can't stay still for even a minute, can you, Li," The freedom fighter chuckled and searched around Zuko's pockets, making sure to press his crotch teasingly in the process. Zuko allowed this (not that he had much choice) and narrowed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as the hands reached his hip, pulling at the few weapon's that rested upon it. "Or should I say, Fire nation Prince Zuko."

The fingers traced his hip bone roughly before tugging at the yellow fabric, releasing a knife from under its folds, one that he often kept for emergencies. Emergencies such as the one he was in now. Zuko twisted his head and attempted to get a good look at Jet, but all he could see was familiar brown pants and lightly tanned skin.

Jet leaned over and allowed a smirk to light up his face, causing the prince to stare at him uncomfortably, confused. He didn't know what the other boy was planning, and he sure as hell didn't want to stay around long enough to find out. Wincing, he arched his back and tried to pull himself upright, only to find Jet's knee locking himself back against the ground, immobilizing him.

One hand moved down to join the other, and slowly, they both pulled his shirt away from his back—a difficult task considering his position. Zuko scowled and jerked his hips, instantly regretting the move as he felt something hard and warm connect with his lower back. He blinked and shifted his cheek across the cool stone, trying with difficulty to glance at whatever was pressed up behind him.

But there was only Jet.

A light blush lit up his face as he relished just what the lump had been. "I told you to get off me!" He struggled and kicked at Jet's back, but his foot simply met with air. Jet chuckled once again and placed the knife at Zuko's shoulder, sliding it down in one swift pull.

"What makes you think I'll listen?" Jet asked, stopping the knife at Zuko's waist and watching as the blood dribbled down his shoulder and over his back, mixing in with the sweat and dirt that clung to the skin.

A groan of discomfort came from Zuko's throat as the cut burnt and stung. Jet simply smirked and dragged the knife back up to his other shoulder blade, leaving a slick long line of blood in its wake. "Remember back with the Dai Lee? You know I died because of what you did to me, don't you?" Zuko hissed as the knife dug deeper in to his waist, bloodying the already pinkened skin.

"N-not my fault you're an obsessive bastard of a boyfriend," Zuko ground out angrily, unable to keep back a hiss as the knife cut in to his shoulder.

Something warm and wet slid over the newly created cut, and had Zuko not known what it was, he could have described the feeling as pleasurable, or at the very least, pain-relieving. Obviously at this point struggling was of no use, but that didn't stop Zuko from jerking and pulling himself away from the other boy, desperate to escape before…before the inevitable happened.

He felt long fingers hook under his pants and brush down his waist, his buttocks, his thighs—he ground his teeth together and tried to ignore the hands as they brushed up against his erection. "Obsessive bastard? Maybe, but at least I'm not the one about to be fucked in to the ground," Jet said smoothly against his ear, licking the pink folds.

Zuko growled deeply as the hand cupped his throbbing erection, toying with it, but never stroking it. "Hm, you like that?" Jet chuckled and Zuko bit down on his tongue, biting down on the flesh instead of releasing a choked moan. Behind him, Jet shrugged his shoulders and carelessly tugged at his pants, slipping them down his thighs and over his knees.

A clink sounded as Jet pulled the dagger from the floor, and Zuko could see him staring at his back idly with a finger on his chin, perhaps deciding where to make the next cut. "Hm, what do you think you will most remember?" He one handedly played with the knife, flipping it in between his fingers, then catching it. "…Oh, I know…"

Zuko felt rough fingers trace over his back, making the already stinging cuts burn. What was Jet going to do? Was he going to kill him now? Zuko almost let out a frustrated groan, _almost_. Pain he was used to, but fear, fear was a completely different thing. And dammit, he'd much rather just be fucked by Jet, not tortured.

He felt the knife trace over his lower back and shuddered. Jet wouldn't…would he? He felt the metal probe at him, once, twice—a hiss escaped his throat as Jet pulled back and began to trace the knife down his lower back, adding another cut to the already multiple there. "How about this, you tell me how much of a slut you are, and how much you want my cock and I won't stick this knife up your ass and fuck you with it," The freedom fighter pulled it back down to Zuko's buttocks, over his entrance a second time.

Zuko's breath caught. He needed to speak, he didn't want to speak, but he needed to…then why wasn't his mouth cooperating? He glared at the floor as if it was the cause of all his problems, jerked his arms and licked his dry lips, trying without avail to push the other boy away.

"You wouldn't dare—"

He felt the cool metal press in and immediately stopped his struggles. Despite been used to pain, he had to admit, what Jet was doing was forcing him against his limits. Slowly but surely the pain increased, until finally, Zuko could no longer stop himself from speaking. "…I-I'm a slut, I love been fucked and I want your big hard cock up my ass," Jet was pulling back, but not nearly enough. He ground his teeth angrily and breathed deeply thought his nose. "I want you to fill me, fuck me, I'm your slut—just god—alright!"

And it ended.

He breathed heavily against the temple floor and closed his eyes, body stinging uncomfortably from the previous activities. By the look of things, he was bleeding, and probably quite a lot.

Behind him Jet laughed. "The fire nation prince reduced to a pathetic slut begging for a fuck," He felt the knife been lay down beside his thigh and one hand forcing him to spread. Another soon met that hand, and they slowly slid down his buttocks, coming to a stop at his thighs. More violently than was probably necessary, Jet wrenched his legs apart and smirked when Zuko let out a surprised yelp.

"Don't like the rough treatment, Princy?" Jet mocked, shaking his head. He quickly undid his pants with one hand, using the other to keep Zuko's legs apart, and positioned himself.

"Fuck you!"

"I'm going to."

Zuko let out a strangled gasp as Jet entered him. He had never felt anything like this before, it was intense, hot, pleasurable, but _painful_. It was painful, but after another three thrusts, he could feel warmth starting to boil up in his stomach, and for just a moment, a mere moment, pleasure overcame the pain. He gasped and withered under Jet's body, feeling almost tempted to press back against each thrust—nononono. No. That was just wrong; he wouldn't—couldn't lower himself to that level!

One of Jets hands came up to tangle in his hair, keeping his head down, whilst the other pressed up against his erection. "You like this, don't you?" Jet asked. He pressed back in to Zuko and let out a breathless groan.

"Shut up and fuck me!" Zuko retorted, voice trembling despite his attempts to cover it.

The freedom fighter gave another violent thrust and twisted the prince's hips, hoisting them.

Blood filled Zuko's mouth and he realized moments later that he had bitten down on his tongue—thankfully, not enough to actually permanently damage the soft muscle. "God Jet…" He groaned, biting his lip as a spike of pleasure rippled through his body.

Jet simply smirked. "I'm a god am I? Then wait and see what you'll think of me in an hour," The freedom fighter ran a tongue over his shoulder, tasting the blood and salt on his skin. "If you can still speak by then, that is."

And for once, the prince had nothing to say.


End file.
